This is a story of a girl. A wallflower, someone who did not draw too much attention to herself. Someone who sat quietly in class while the boys threw paper balls around the classroom, while girls gossiped about the latest couple in school. This comes from a time, when smartphones had yet to be released and when MSN messenger was the go-to platform for ‘project meetings’.
This girl
was a plain Jane, so we shall call her Jane in this story. Just an average girl
in an average secondary school. Her grades were decent, but not good enough
that it drew attention. She had no interesting hobbies, nothing on her that
people could gossip about. In fact, the most interesting thing about her was
that she was a bookworm, never to be seen around school without a storybook in
her hand that was thicker than any of her textbooks.
Once the
school bell rang, Jane was always one of the first students out of school,
disappearing right under her classmates’ noses. No one notices her, not that
anyone bothered to anyway. Jane rushed to the bus stop, and always manages to
grab a bus which was not infected with students who just ended school.
She makes
her way to the library, a home away from home. She had one of those stepdads
who abused her and her sister frequently, so Jane spent as much time as
possible at the library, claiming to be studying. Yet, her real reason to be
here was to be with her friends, her fictional friends from lands far away,
where snow, floods and earthquakes were common, where magic flowed in people’s veins.
Being in
secondary school, no one bats an eyelid as Jane heads up to the adult section,
where there were no kids screaming and where there were thicker books that
appealed more to her. Jane picks up a new novel today, not sure of whatever she
was reading, not sure who she will be meeting today.
Sitting down in a quiet corner of her choosing, Jane opens up her book and allows the words to welcome her into its ink-based world. She opens this book without realising that this book will change who she is, a book that will create someone new within her.
Being a book
catered to the older crowd, Jane was still unaware of the themes these books
carried within, themes that she was not ready for. Today, that book was one
such book. A book set in Ancient Greece, set in the midst of a war.
Jane
continued to read word after word, the printed words forming images in her mind
like that of a movie. She watched as characters were portrayed sexually, when
the heroine herself was raped, where men revealed their deepest and darkest
sexual fantasies.
“… The
general stood facing the captured princess and king, both of whom were held in
chains underneath the deepest dungeon that their castle had, a castle that they
once called home.”
It was as if
Jane was with them, feeling the cold of the dungeon against her skin, seeing
the princess in her ragged clothes and the king with his frayed beard.
“Giving an
evil smile, the general once again asked the king to beg for mercy, to
surrender his castle and ask his troops to lay down their arms against the
rebel forces. The king lay silent, not wanting to break the morale of his men,
loyal men fighting for freedom, fighting for their homes.
The general
shook his head, annoyed by the king’s stubbornness. He walked over to the
princess in chains, noting how beautiful she was, even with her clothes in such
a disarray. In fact, the dirt and grime in the dungeon only served to let her
beauty stand out even more.
Taking his
spear, he prodded it under her chin, lifting up her head to observe his beauty
for himself.”
Jane felt
her chin being tilted upward by the words, and she felt for herself the point
of the spear just above her throat.
“She was a
beauty indeed. The tales did not lie. With one swift stroke, the general
brought his blade down the front of whatever remained of the princess’s
garments, her bare skin revealed to the general, skin untouched by the eyes of
mere men.
The king
expressed an expression of shock, looking away from his daughter’s state of
undress. The princess closed her eyes, ashamed of her nakedness. The general
only laughed, his eyes aflame with evil intentions.”
Jane felt
for herself the state of the princess’s undress despite still having her
uniform on. She traced a finger down the front of her clothes, as if a blade
was being drawn down the centre of her torso. She tried to feel for herself
what the princess would have felt, naked before at least two men in a dark
dungeon, only lit by torches.
“The general
grabbed the princess by her throat, pulling her upright till she stood on
tiptoes, her eyes still closed in defiance, defying the inevitable. With his
other free hand, her brought down his fingers upon her face of beauty with a
loud and audible slap, one that echoed through the dungeons.
The princess
only gasped from the pain, while her father stay knelt upon the cold stone, his
body shaking with anger and tears flowing from his eyes. The general only
slapped her once more, feeling triumphant at the helplessness of the royal
family before him.”
It was as if
Jane was being slapped herself, having been beaten by her stepdad before. Yet,
she was aware of the nakedness of the princess, and she felt like she herself
was being abused and humiliated, right before her very own father. She felt a
tingle down her bare skin, and a flush rushed to her cheeks, reddened as if she
was really slapped.
“A
full-grown man, the general was well-aware of the weaknesses of the human body.
If force could not break her, perhaps pleasure would. With force, he tore apart
whatever remaining cloth there was on the princess’s body, allowing her to
stand fully naked in front of her father.
The princess
stood shivering from the cold, shaking from the pain dealt to her cheeks. She
felt her nipples harden with the cold air upon her bare breasts, sore and erect
with blood. The general only laughed at her helplessness, and softly drew his
fingers over her naked chest.”
Jane felt as
if she herself was molested. Nipples that she never felt before were suddenly
very sensitive to her, pushing outwards from her chest. In the cold of the
library, she felt the soft fabric of her training bra touch against her
nipples, the general himself was there, touching her young body.
“He
continued to touch her, totally ignoring the kneeling king barely an arm’s
length away. He dragged his fingers across her mounds of flesh gently, feeling
the smooth skin under his callused fingers. He observed as the princess seemed
to relax a little, yet she still pursed her lips, maintaining silence. Without
warning, the general gave the princess’s nipples a pinch, causing her to give
out a little cry of pain at the sudden pressure upon her already sensitive
nipples.”
Jane jumped
a little at the sudden development, moving her hands upwards to cover her
breasts on instinct. This, as she would later know, was not a good move to
make. Her hand’s pressure on her breast also felt like something new to her,
and thankfully she managed to bite down upon her lips just in time to muffle
her moan into a squeak. This feeling was new to her, unexplored, unknown.
One would
think nothing of this young girl in a school uniform, just someone who was
really absorbed into the thick novel she was currently reading, barely able to
contain her excitement. Little did they know.
“The general
traced his hands all over the naked princess, each stroke getting lower and
lower…”
Jane moved
her fingers down, slowly touching herself, her other hand holding the book
firmly, turning the page when necessary.
“He came to
a rest before her navel, his hands inches above her naturally grown public
hair, hair that was just as lush as the hair upon her royal head. He lifted his
fingers up and bent down to see her better, and to get a better view of her
lower body. He continued his gentle strokes once more, starting from her knees
upwards…”
And Jane
followed, placing her free hand upon her knee, gently.
“He stroked
upwards, gently moving his old hand along her smooth inner thigh.”
And Jane
also moved her hands up, up her school skirt. She felt a warm flush, her skin
more sensitive than it should be. It felt forbidden, wrong, yet it felt good.
“He reached
her private region, which seemed to be oozing a different sort of heat compared
to the rest of the body. Being a full-grown man accustomed to lots of sexual
pleasures, he could distinctly smell the scent of arousal in the air in the
deep, dark dungeon. The princess moaned – the first audible sound she made – in
pleasure, sensing feelings she never experienced before.”
Jane moved
upwards to cup the mound of her young pussy, feeling warm between her legs. Her
skirt was hitched up by her arm, but no one was around to see. She felt the
slight moisture upon her privates, and somehow she knew where would feel good.
She moved her hands in circles below herself, imagining herself being touched
instead.
“The general
then stroked her privates, running a finger along her thin, unused clit,
untouched by any man.”
Jane shifted
her panties to the side to gain access to her privates, her bare hands a
different feeling altogether from being touched over her panties. She groaned a
little moan as she stroked her fingers up and down upon her slit, feeling the
new sensation of wetness upon her fingers.
“The
princess continued to moan despite being fondled by her captor, her body a slave
to her own erotic desires.”
Without care for her surroundings – not that she needed to – Jane continued to stroke herself, feeling her first touch of her engorged and aroused clit. Knowing how it felt exceptionally good there, she continued to touch herself there, running circles around her little button.
“Then all of
a sudden the general tilted his finger and plunged it deep inside her. The
lubrication of her arousal allowed his finger for easy entry, and she did not
feel the pain, only pleasure as she was fingered by the kingdom’s sworn enemy
right in front of her father.”
Jane tried
for herself, lowering her wet finger slowly to the entrance that was inviting
her. It was easy to find, the source of the wetness, the source of the womanly
warmth between her legs. She eased her own fingers deep into herself, stifling
a moan as she felt herself being filled up by her fingers.
She started
to discover herself, feeling for herself the soft, sensitive spots deep within
her. She continued to stroke, feeling the pleasure build upon pleasure created
by an earlier stroke, pleasure building up for some sort of great release.
“The general
wiggled his fingers deep inside his captive princess, his fingers exploring her
unexplored caverns, her untouched innocence. He was forceful yet gentle at the
same time, and with each time he plunged his finger deep inside her again, the
princess moaned, her cries of pleasure drowning out the sobs of her father just
barely metres away.”
And then
Jane felt it, the first wave of unexplainable pleasure and release. Underneath
her school skirt and with her fingers knuckle deep within her, her pussy gave
out a spasm as the first wave of orgasm hit her, then another and another was
the words on the book rolled into an image of pleasure on her imagination.
She was
unaware if she actually let out a moan, but she was shaking from the
overbearing pleasure that wrecked her over and over again, her knees pressed
together and her fingers wet inside her, feeling every time her young vagina
clenched its soft muscles around her.
When she
finally did recover from her climax, Jane could feel each pump of blood that
flowed through her, and she felt light-headed and faint. She felt her vagina
still throbbing, the vestiges of her first orgasm leaving her.
Her breath
came in quick breaths, and she slowly placed her panties back to where they
below, and she cleaned her wet fingers upon her school skirt.
Jane shut
the book she held, marking where she stopped reading and where pleasure took
over. Walking to the book borrowing machine, she could feel her moist underwear
between her legs, and a slight stickiness of her bodily fluids upon her inner
thigh.
She scanned
the book, and carried the book in her hands, leaving the library with no one
taking a look at her, just like the way she entered, just like the way she went
everywhere else.
And that, is
the story of how a plain Jane found her first orgasm, and many more to come,
with a book – A book with a heroine named Jezebel.
